


When You Love It

by onceuponanovel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Love, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Once Upon a Time (TV), Little Red, Multi, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Werewolf, Young Love, character death mention but not shown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 17:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6161374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponanovel/pseuds/onceuponanovel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still struggling with the nightmares of that night in the forest. The night she lost her love. The day she realized it was her. That she was the monster.</p><p>~</p><p>My sister asked me to write this a while ago and I've just not gotten around to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Love It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormchocaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormchocaholic/gifts).



_When is a monster not a monster?_

One year later and she still couldn’t shake it. Couldn’t forget it. Her nights filled with nightmares, waking up in a pool of sweat and heart beating against her ribcage. She’d killed Peter. She killed him and no amount of reassurances from Granny or Mary could free her from this guilt.

Red asked herself that same question over and over again since the incident. The incident.

She lay in her bed, she had forgotten how long she’d secluded herself to her bedroom. The shutters closed, the drapes of the bed keeping her in the dark. She wanted to be alone. She deserved to be alone.

At least once a day Granny would come in and try to coax her out. Tempting her with her favorite goodies that she relished as a child. She wasn’t a child. She wasn’t a woman. She was a monster. A monster who slaughtered an innocent boy, a boy she loved, with her very teeth and claws.

Since that night, the night she found out her horrible secret, she refused to show her face and even when she thought the wells within her were dry the salty water would flow from her eyes faster than a river current.

The minute Red heard the creak of her bedroom door opening; she hid her face under her hood and her covers. It didn’t matter that wolfstime was over, what if those sensations returned? What if she were to just transform into the beast she was, the beast Granny said she wasn’t. None of that changed the fact that she…no she tried to shake the images from that night out of her mind.

“Red?” Mary’s voice was soft and comforting. “Red,” she felt her friend’s hand give her shoulder a shake. “Red, please get up. Granny made your favorite.”

She didn’t deserve her favorite. She should be locked away in a cell, the key thrown away. To be forgotten.

“Red, please,” she felt the bed give as Mary sat down beside her.

“Go away,” her voice was raw and weak. Had it been days since she last spoke? Her last memory of hearing her voice was crying out after a nightmare. Granny coming to her aid, her screaming, crying, shaking. Since then she had stayed in bed and hadn’t dared to leave. “Just go away.” She was barely audible this time, too weak to even fight.

“I’ll be in the front room if you need anything,” Mary got up from her bed and left as quietly as she came.

As soon as the door was closed, she heard Mary and Granny’s small voices conversing. Conversing about her. In the past year Mary had been staying with them, hiding with them, she’d become one of the family. A sister Red had always wanted.

"I didn't want her to have that burden. It's a terrible burden…” Granny’s voice broke.

She couldn’t keep doing this to her Granny. To Mary. Ever since that night, she’d been the one the two ladies were handling with kid gloves. Now she was nothing more than a liability to those she cared about. It was a terrible burden she’d put on them. And maybe it was rash, maybe it was stupid, and maybe she wasn’t in her right mind, but there was only one thing left to do: leave.

* * *

 

 She trekked through the melted snow and fresh mud, her boots squishing with every step. Her bow and quiver slung over her back and her bag filled with some of Granny’s fresh baked bread. It didn’t matter if her tracks were covered, Granny couldn’t match her step and Mary didn’t know what came so naturally to her. She only ever felt alive whilst in the woods.

She paused to take in the sunrise over the snowcapped pines. The sun glistening like a rainbow catcher, painting the snow in vibrant colors.

The corners of her lips turned up into a smile as she inhaled the fresh air and the scent wood. Peter always smelled like wood. Ash. Birch. Pine. But it was oak that had been her favorite. His too. When he wasn’t hunting in the woods with her, he busied himself in his father’s shop. She loved watching him when they were younger, watching him take something as plain as a log and create a masterpiece from it.

“Hello?”

Red reached for her bow and took aim. When she saw her target, a small girl with chestnut curls and bright blue eyes, she quickly lowered her bow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Red still had her bow set and ready, she wasn’t sure who this precocious young woman was or if she knew what Red was. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had sent a fresh innocent face to make her pay for her crimes. Even Peter’s father still had a price on her head.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The young woman smiled. “You look cold. Why don’t you come with me? I’m heading towards the pub.”

Red narrowed her eyes. What was her angle? She gave a sharp nod and let this woman lead the way.

“What’s your name?” she asked as they continued walking. “Are you a hunter? I always wanted to learn how to use the bow.”

“Who are you?” Red’s tone was sharp. “And why are you so chirpy?”

Her companion stopped in her tracks, her nose wrinkled. “My name is Belle. And I there’s no reason for you to be so rude.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t be too careful,” she slid the arrow back into the quiver. But she still had her hand on her knife in case she needed to make a clean break of it. “The names- wait you don’t know do you-”

Belle’s brow furrowed into a quizzical expression, “Know what?” Red shook her head and continued to walk, but Belle stopped her. “What should I know?”

Red pursed her lips, there was no reason to trust this woman, but her gut was telling her otherwise. There was a goodness about her. Something she hadn’t seen in a long time. She didn’t look at her with condescension or empathy.

“I’ll tell you over a drink. You can call me- uh, call me Ruby,” Red let go of the handle of her knife. That was enough to appease this Belle for now. She didn’t ask one more thing until they were seated amongst a group of dwarves in the pub with their drinks setting before them. Red finished her glass of whiskey in one gulp. It didn’t help her to forget, but it did help numb the pain. “I have to warn you, it’s a long story. And one that doesn’t have a good ending.”

“As a matter of fact, I love long stories,” she sipped her beer from the copper stein. “And don’t be so sure about that ending.”

Red ordered another drink. Thankfully Belle did not look upon her with disapproval. “Okay,” she drummed her fingernails on the wooden table top. “I was fourteen and I met this boy- Peter,” she wanted to tear up, but there the well was dry. “And today is the anniversary of when he died. But this, everything started that day I met him in the woods, the day he became my hunting partner.”

* * *

 

Letting her arrow fly, hitting the dear straight in the eye, she lowered her bow and felt pride swell inside her chest. This will go a long way to keep her and Granny going. Though had her grandmother known she traveled into the depths of the woods to, she’d be locking her away in the cabin and Red’d never see the light of day.

“You’re quite the thief.”

She swung around and ready to fire at this boy, or was he a man with the overgrowth on his tanned face- either way he was incredibly rude. “Call me a thief again and I’ll be sure to make you’re my next target.”

He chuckled at her response and ignored her threat. As he approached her she tried not to let her emotions betray her. He had this rugged appearance with a burlap coat and well-worn trousers, but it was his chocolate brown eyes to match his shaggy mop of hair that caught her off guard.

“You’ve got good aim,” he stopped a few feet from her, not wavering from the arrow pointed directly at him. “What’s your name?”

“Red. And you?”

He grinned, “Peter. Peter Merriweather.” He got a better look at her. “Wait, you’re the Widow Lucas’ granddaughter, right? I could’ve sworn I’ve seen that red cloak before. It’s bold, much like its wearer.”

And he was bold too. “I am.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, _Red_.” There was something about the way he said her nickname that caused a fluttering inside her. “So you’re the one who’s been picking off my game.”

She finally lowered her bow, slow and steady in case she needed to use it. “I didn’t see your name on it. Besides we’re poaching. It all belongs to the blasted King Leopold.”

“That is true,” he nodded, then flashed her that grin again. “I guess what the king doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt him.”

And by the end of their hunting adventure, not only were they hunting partners, they were friends. Together they made an unstoppable team and did more than just put food on their tables and coin in their purses. In Peter, Red found the first person she could confide in since the loss of Bae.

When she’d pass The Dark One, he would always glance her way and she’d give him a nod. Neither one bothered to speak about the day Bae was lost through a portal. To a land without magic. To her there was no such thing. They only had this one world and all the good and bad that came with it.

After Rumpelstiltskin lost his son, Red tried to pay him a visit, Bae was the only friend she had. But no matter how many times she went knocking on the door to the Dark Castle, he never answered. Maybe seeing her was too painful. Just a reminder that Bae was gone forever.

She caught a glance of The Dark One while strolling the market, when their gaze met, she expected him to ignore her or possibly turn her into a toad, but he crossed the road to meet her.

“Hello, _Red_ ,” the dark one sneered.

“Hello,” she responded quietly.

He eyed her for a moment and she wondered what he was planning, maybe take her prisoner? He was certainly dark before losing Bae, but afterwards- afterwards he no longer had anyone who loved him. No one cared. She wasn’t sure if she even cared.

“I’m-” she bit her lip. If she was going to die or be cursed, whatever, she had to tell him. “I’m sorry. About Bae. I miss him too.”

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked away, “Is that so, dearie.” He wrinkled his nose at her and walked past her. “And don’t knock on my door anymore. The only one who would let you in- is gone.”

She turned to watch him leave, looking forlorn.

“I can’t believe you made it through unscathed.”

Giving Peter a much needed elbow in the ribs, “He’s not that bad- well, maybe a little. But I was friends with his son.”

Peter raised a brow and his lips formed a scowl. “You were?” It sounded more like a statement than an inquiry. She could have sworn there was jealousy in his brown eyes.

“Yes, friends,” she repeated. “Are you turning green on me?”

He shook his head and turned on his heel to leave. “Forget it.”

She wasn’t about to forget it. Bae not be present, but somehow Peter saw him as a threat. That maybe she was still holding a flame for this missing boy. And the only way he would even care- that was all she needed to run and catch up with him. He was a year older than her and the first boy she met who was actually taller than her, walk, or even run faster than her.

“Peter,” she called out as they edged the line of the forest. He stopped as soon as he heard her voice and the allowed her time to get ahead of him. “You’re my friend, right. The only person I trust to hunt with. If you can’t trust me enough to tell me what it is, then maybe I can’t trust you anymore.”

She certainly didn’t want to lose Peter as a friend. No matter how much of a loner she was, it was nice having a person to confide in other than Granny. Of course she’d catch herself talking to Bae as if he were still there. The boy was always a good voice of reason and saw the best in people, especially his own father. But Peter was the first person she had opened up to since losing Bae. If this fell apart, there wasn’t much hope of her putting herself out there anymore.

Cautiously he took a step closer, so close she could feel his breath. He brushed his knuckles against the side of her face and closed the gap between them by pressing his lips to hers. If it was brief she couldn’t remember. The only thing she could recall was the scent of oak, the shavings still sprinkled on his coat like snow. And tasting like honey raisin bread, the likes her Granny made.

His hand still touching her cheek, “I had to do that just once.”

“B-b-but,” she stammered.

“I like you, Red,” his hand finally dropped to his side and clenched into a fist. “I more than like you. I never met anyone like you. Does that answer your question?”

She nodded slowly.

The next time she went into the woods to hunt, hoping to get a few pheasants, maybe a turkey if she were lucky, but there was no sign of Peter. Every hiding place came up empty. By the end of the day she had three pheasants and a rabbit and no hunting partner.

Even searching the woods held no joy for her.

She packed up her game and was ready to leave. As she stood, almost like the same way she met him the first time, stalking behind the thick pine trees, his bow in hand and his messy mop of brown waves.

“Peter,” she said his name, but she didn’t know what else to say. She wanted to ask: _where were you today? Are we no longer friends?_ But her words failed her. “I- um. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I almost didn’t,” he answered. “Can we forget what happened? Go back to being partners.”

“No,” she said with the shake of the head.

“No to what or no to both?”

She wasn’t sure if she should take a step closer, if it might do more harm than good. Obviously he regretted his choice to kiss her. Though ever since he did, it was all she could think about. So much so that she realized he’d always be her friend, but she also wanted something more.

It’d be beyond embarrassing to dare ask Granny’s thoughts on the subject. If she knew a boy was interested in her, the crossbow would be aimed at Peter’s heart. Having a mother would come in quite handy right now.

“No to both,” her voice raspy. “I want to be your friend. But- but I think I want more.”

His head perked up, his expression one of astonishment. “Really?”

“Really,” she smirked. “I have to warn you though. My Granny is a tough nut to crack.”

He moved closer to her. “Oh, I think I can win her over. It worked with you, didn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes and reached to swat him, but he caught her hand and pulled her close kissing her once more.

For a while they continued on in secret that is until a few years later Granny found out. Then all hell broke loose. She expected if anything that was it, Peter and her would part ways. Instead they became betrothed. Despite Granny grumbling about it, she never did try to end their relationship.

* * *

 

Red’s shoulders slumped as she finished up her tale of woe. She didn’t hold back, admitting everything. Even that she was a werewolf. That she killed him. That she was this monster. A freak. And the whole time she’d been kept in the shadows about it.

“I’m-” Belle began. “Ruby, I’m so sorry.”

That’s what they all said. Well, except for the ones who called her a murderer. She felt like a murderer.

“Don’t be,” Red shrugged. “At least not for me.”

“But it isn’t-”

“-my fault, well yeah, it is,” Red’s tone was curt. “So I left, or I am leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Belle asked.

“To where my friend went years ago. A land without magic. If there is such a place, I should be safe, or really everyone else should be safe.”

Belle shook her head, “Don’t go. Don’t run. You said Granny doesn’t blame you-”

“Yeah, but I blame me,” her voice was high pitched than she’d have liked.

“Ruby, don’t go,” Belle asked once more. “Don’t shut out the ones you love just because you’re scared and vulnerable. I know how that feels, to be pushed away. Don’t do that to your Granny. You have no idea how painful it is.”

Red squirmed in her seat, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. It was what she needed to hear and she didn’t need to feel guilt at this time. Didn’t she have enough on her plate after she devoured her betrothed?

“Listen, thanks for the drinks,” Red got up from her seat and took her bow in hand. “And thanks for the talk. Whoever did you wrong, well, it’s their own fault.”

With that she stalked out of the pub and back into the cold night air. She started walking forward, but the more she thought about Belle’s words: _Don’t do that to your Granny. You have no idea how painful it is._ She found herself turning around and heading the same way she came. By the time the sun rose the next morning, tired and achy, she opened the door to the cabin, seeing Granny snoozing in her chair, crossbow in hand. She carefully placed her bow and quiver onto the floor before retrieving Granny’s weapon of choice.

“Granny,” she gave her grandmother’s aging arm a shake. “Granny it’s me, Red.”

Granny’s weary eyes opened slowly, but when got a look at her granddaughter the two women embraced each other, holding onto each other for dear life.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Granny’s voice muffled from being buried in Red’s long locks. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

“I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“I know, I know.” Granny stroked her back and let her have a good cry.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. For Peter. For hurting you.” Her thoughts were starting to jumble together.

Granny shushed her, held her like she did as a girl. “Let’s get you to bed.” Somehow Granny managed to coax her to her feet and get her underneath the covers warm safe. As Granny was turning to leave, Red reached out for her hand.

“Will you stay with me? Please?”

Granny didn’t say a word. She pressed her warm lips to Red’s forehead and patted her hand softly.

“Granny,” she spoke softly feeling much younger than her years. “When is a monster not a monster?”

Granny shook her head softly and brushed the hair out of her granddaughter’s face. “When you love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading "When You Love It". I'm also on tumblr (http://www.seannaacey.tumblr.com) as well as wordpress (http://www.seannasfanfics.wordpress.com as The Enchanted Capitol)


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